


Alone Time

by readingtoujours



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Baz wants to be alone, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, but Simon wants to be with Baz, okay fine Baz doesn't really want to be alone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:53:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23188807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/readingtoujours/pseuds/readingtoujours
Summary: Based on the prompt: Baz’s father is ignoring him because he is dating Simon. Baz is ignoring Simon because he wants to be alone. Simon won’t take no for an answer.Simon doesn't hear from Baz for a little while, so he decides to take matters into his own hands and go to Baz's house.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 9
Kudos: 68





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever ao3 post, so all feedback welcome in the comments! :)

“Baz hasn’t been over in two weeks, Simon. What’s up with that?” Penny was wearing her glasses halfway down her nose. They were there because she’d been concentrating too hard to push them back up, but it made her gaze at Simon seem more menacing. 

“I’ve tried calling him but he hasn’t answered.” Simon’s tail was limp on the couch. He was exhausted; he wasn’t used to sleeping without Baz. He tossed and turned at night but he could never get comfortable without Baz there. It was beginning to feel like year 8 all over…

“Call him again.” Penny was tired of having to drive their relationship. She was still warming up to the fact that Baz wasn’t evil (just snobby) and Simon was in love with him. Sometimes their problems frustrated her. (“Baz really loves you, Simon. You really love him! Why can’t you just talk to each other?”)

“I’ve called him twice in the past 24 hours. It always goes straight to voicemail which he hasn’t even set up yet. I don’t want to bother him.”

“I really don’t think you’d be bothering your boyfriend by asking when you can see him next.”

Simon huffed. Penny pushed her glasses back up on her nose. They slid back down but still stayed further up on her nose than they were before. 

“Simon, do you want to call him?”

“I want him to be okay, to be here. I don’t want to call him, I want him to call me. I want him to sleep here again and stop ignoring me.” Simon seemed sheepish. He seemed embarrassed. The look on his face made Penny’s heart melt. She would never forget Simon the first time she saw him, lost and frail. She would always help him. She would always be there for him. She would always want what was best for him.

She breathed in deeply. Simon was fidgeting with the stitches on the couch. If Baz were here he would’ve made a snarky comment about the Peruvian cotton. If Baz were here…  
Penny breathed deeply again. “Call him, Simon. You’ve fought a dragon, you’ve faced the Insidious Humdrum. You can call your boyfriend. Who loves you.” She sounded exasperated. He knew her well enough to know she wasn’t really exasperated. It didn’t make him less likely to obey everything she told him to do.

Simon’s fidgeting halted. He rose as soon as the words had left her mouth. He turned to face her. They made eye contact, and she softened the look on her face. He smiled, ever-so-slightly. “I’ll let you know how it goes,” he promised.

Simon dragged his feet into his bedroom and sat on the end of his bed. His tail was limp. It hung off the bed like an overcooked green bean. He was past trying to control it. It had been a few months since it had permanently attached itself to his body. He knew now that the best way to handle it was to pretend it wasn’t there. It had a mind of its own.

He reached over to his bedside table and slid his phone into his hand. He punched Baz’s number into the phone that he was still getting used to working. He put it to his ear. His wings shook with anticipation.

Three rings sounded from the other end. The fourth ring was interrupted. 

“Hello.” Simon exhaled for what felt like the first time since he’d last spoken to Baz. 

“Baz!” Simon’s tail lifted off the bed and began swinging back and forth. The relief that he felt was almost indescribable. He hadn’t realized how worried he’d been about Baz until Baz had answered, and it felt like the pressure of the Earth rolled off of his shoulders. 

Simon smiled. He babbled without thinking about what he was saying. “You answered. You haven’t answered my calls in so long. I thought maybe you were dead or hurt or something. I - I thought I was going to go mad and I couldn’t sleep without being next to you and I --” His words were so fast they were blurring together. It was hard to distinguish one word from the next.

On the other end, Baz was gripping his phone tightly. He pretended that it wasn’t a huge relief to hear Simon’s voice again. He pretended that Simon’s declarations of love didn’t make his heart do a flip. He concentrated on keeping his mouth in a straight line. He focused on keeping his feet planted. They wanted so badly to run to where Simon was. His whole body was aching to be with Simon.

“Snow. I’m already dead, first of all, and vampires can’t get sick.” He settled on saying something that made him sound like he was his usual old self. If he started voicing the way he thought about Simon, he was worried he would never stop. 

“Oh Baz, I’m so glad you’re okay…” Simon switched his phone from one ear to the other. He was smiling wide, his lips stretching from one curl-covered ear to the other. His smiling faltered only slightly as he realized what he had forgotten to say. “Are you okay?”

Baz exhaled ever-so-slightly. Simon could hear it loudly and clearly though the phone. “Snow, I’m fine. I’ve been…” Baz didn’t have an answer. Simon felt his smile falling a little more. He wished Baz was next to him now, making fun of him for smiling so much. ("Really, Snow? Smiling just from hearing my voice? You’re ridiculous.") But Baz wasn’t here, Baz was home, and Simon hadn’t seen him in forever. Baz hadn’t said he was fine, and his voice sounded abnormally high. Even to the unobservant Simon. 

Simon didn’t realize he was holding his breath until he remembered to let it out. He didn’t realize how worried he was until he tried to speak and found the tightness in his jaw. Simon waited for Baz to finish, waited for his voice to come. ("Of course I’m fine, Snow. Sod off." Simon’s imagination was clearly faulty. Baz hadn’t told Simon to “sod off,” or at least not since before their truce.)

Simon could hear Baz breathing on the other side. He could imagine Baz, leaning against the wall with his phone pressed to his ear, undoubtedly looking criminally attractive. He let his mind wander to distract himself from the lack of response on the other end. 

The silence stretched on and became tighter. Simon could feel it making the air thicker. It felt like the air after he used to go off…

But Simon no longer had magic. He had a boyfriend on the other end who was clearly not okay. Baz’s breathing was still audible to Simon. He relished this proof of Baz being alive. It brought him back to the present. 

When the silence that saturated the air became almost too thick to breathe through, Simon’s tail stiffened and held itself still an inch above the bed. 

“Baz. You’re not okay, are you?” Simon couldn’t stop saying his name now that he was finally talking to him (and Baz was responding). He had missed the way the word felt in his mouth. Like a promise. Like the only person he’d ever loved. 

He had been anticipating a conversation for so long he felt like his heart could finally beat freely again. He didn’t know why he had let the distance grow between them for two weeks.

All Simon could hear on the other end was heavy breathing. He didn’t know why Baz hadn’t responded yet, or what he hadn’t hung up yet. 

(There were a million reasons why Baz hadn’t hung up. He liked the sound of Simon’s voice. He liked knowing that Simon was there. He liked listening to Simon breathe and matching his own breathing to someone so alive. He liked the way that Simon would inhale sharply before he started a sentence, and he liked the way that Simon said his name. Like it was an exhale. Baz. There were a million reasons why Baz hadn’t hung up. Simon couldn’t guess a single one.)

Finally Baz made a sound. His breathing hitched. He sounded choked. Simon pounced on this change of mood.

“Baz, I’m coming over.”

“Simon…”

“Baz. I’m coming over. Are you home?”

Baz didn’t respond. Simon rushed out of his room and grabbed his keys from a hook by the door. 

“Penny, I’m going to Baz’s house.” Simon’s face was still pressed against his phone. Baz got this message as loudly and as clearly as Penny did. Simon peeled his phone off his face and hung up. 

Penny was still wedged in the loveseat in their living room. She smirked at Simon. She wouldn’t admit it, but knowing that Baz and Simon were okay lifted a weight off her chest. “I hope it goes well, Simon.” 

Simon rushed out the front door and nearly caught his tail when he slammed the door shut. He ran down all four flights of stairs to the lobby, and ran out.

He was going to see Baz. 

Baz. The thought of him made Simon’s tail thrash.


	2. two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon gets to Baz's front door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just a short chapter where Simon finally sees Baz, but there's more to come!

Simon took a deep breath before striking the doorbell with his finger. 

He could hear footsteps approaching the front door. His heart was pounding. He shouldn’t be nervous… Baz was his boyfriend. Maybe he wasn’t nervous. Maybe his heart was trying to leap out of his chest into Baz’s hands. (Penny had shown Simon 'In a Heartbeat.' “It looks like you and Baz!” she’d said. He’d denied it then, but now…) 

It took not enough time and too much time for Baz to swing open the door. 

“Baz.” Simon said his name as a gasp. “Baz.” He couldn’t say Baz’s name enough. He was finally right in front of him. Finally, finally, finally. He was close enough to be touched -- 

Baz opened his arms. Simon jumped into them. (Literally jumped. When he landed, the force of his collision sent Baz stumbling.) 

Baz pressed Simon flush against his chest. He ran his hands up and down Simon’s back, pushing Simon closer to his heart which was thumping at an almost lively rate. His head was pressed against the side of Simon’s neck. Simon was so warm. 

Baz wished that he could fuse Simon into his body. If he pushed tight enough, he thought maybe the space between the two of them would disappear. He vowed to never let the time stretch between them like that. He didn’t want anything to get between them. Not even his father… 

His father. The reason why he hadn’t contacted Simon in a few weeks. The reason why he’d barely fed -- on food or blood -- and the reason why he’d been sitting in his room with the lights out, staring at the ceiling, searching for some proof that he wasn’t completely dead. 

The phone call with his father played over and over in his head. He couldn’t get it to stop. He thought that maybe he shouldn’t get it to stop. It was horrid, but he thought he deserved it. For who he was. For what he was. For the fact that his mother wasn’t.


	3. the phone call (three)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baz's phone call with his father

“Basilton. I am concerned about some of the...choices you’ve made recently. I know that you’ve had a lot on your plate the past few weeks. I’m sure you agree with me when I say that maybe it would be best to take a break from the effects of these choices.”

“Father, I don’t know what you’re referring to. I am unaware of what I may have done recently to displease you.” 

His father had cleared his throat. Baz could imagine him fiddling with the sleeves of his blazer and adjusting his cufflinks while gathering his thoughts. 

“You have formed some,” he paused again, and Baz could hear muffled movements on the other end. He imagined his father nervously smoothing down the sides of his shirt. “You have formed some alliances with people who are distrusting. You seem to be growing closer to the enemy’s side.” 

Baz cringed at the word “enemy.” The years of fighting felt so distant. Putting that label on Simon was like putting on a shirt that was too small; it made Baz’s ribs ache. 

Baz decided to rip off the bandaid. “Are you speaking about me and Simon, father?”

Baz could imagine that his father was blushing. Baz was usually not so blunt. Especially not when he was referring to… matters involving his sexuality. No matter how indirectly. 

“I don’t mean to sound harsh, Basilton, but I don’t understand your sudden...infatuation with him. It seems uncalculated. It makes me worry about the future of the Grimm-Pitches. We cannot be messy with our decisions, especially not at a time of conflict like this. Impulsive decisions lead to vulnerability. You know that.” 

Baz looked up at the ceiling. He focused on keeping his breathing even. He didn’t need his father to know how close he was to tears. He didn’t want his father to know that he was capable of crying. It would only make him question Baz’s decisions more. 

Baz opted for a response of silence. 

“Your mother --” Baz’s father began. At hearing this words, something inside of Baz twisted and snapped. 

“Don’t bring my mother into this, Father.” Tears collected behind his eyelids and formed a thick ring in his throat. “You can disown me, you can never speak to me again, you can stop sending me money, just please don’t bring Mother into this.” His voice made him sound like he was underwater. His father was sure to know that he was crying now, but he’d never mention it. 

Instead he said, “Basilton, I don’t think you’re taking this seriously.” 

“What is there to take seriously, Father? My relationship with Simon? I am taking that plenty seriously.” Baz hadn’t meant to say that -- hadn’t meant to openly confirm their relationship -- but he also had vowed once before to never cry in front of his father. In for a penny, in for a pound, he supposed. 

“You’re making this difficult, Basilton. I’m going to give you a few weeks to think about it. Think about what the family name means to you. Think about what you’re putting at risk.” Baz tilted his head back and closed his eyes. “Make the right decision, Basilton.” his father said, then hung up.

Baz let his phone slide into his lap. He closed his eyes. “Make the right decision, Basilton,” his head echoed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! All comments are very appreciated :)


	4. four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon enters Baz's apartment.

“Baz. Baz. Are you okay?” Simon’s voice pulled Baz away from his conversation with his father.

Baz looked at Simon and his first thought was … God, Simon was so warm. He was heating them both up doing nothing but hugging Baz. He was so warm and so alive… 

Ignoring Simon for the past few weeks had done nothing to lessen Baz’s feeling for Simon. If anything, it made Baz’s feelings stronger. It was like he had been repressing his brain’s desire to be with Simon, and now that Simon was there, the floodgates opened. All Baz’s mind could think was Simon, Simon, Simon, Simon. 

Baz had stopped calling Simon “Snow” in his head. He’d stopped calling Simon anything, really. He couldn’t think about Simon. It made him feel too much. Thinking about Simon was sort of like drinking melted chocolate. It was so nice, so warm, so… so good that once he started he’d never be able to stop. 

Simon pushed his mouth to Baz’s ear and told Baz how much he loved him (“a fuck ton”) and how much he’d missed him (“a ton, fuck”), which made Baz’s heart momentarily swell so big that he thought he could march right over to his father’s house and crush him with it. 

Baz turned his head until his lips were against Simon and kissed him. He then removed his steel grip around Simon and pushed the curls off of Simon’s forehead. Simon’s wings shuddered. “I missed you, too.” Baz swallowed around his words. He could feel himself getting oddly teary. For the second time in the past month. Baz had cried twice in the last month, the only two times since his mother was killed.

His mother… Fuck, he couldn’t think about family right now. 

Simon blushed and looked down at his shoes, suddenly bashful. They were converse sneakers, shoes that Baz had helped him pick out (and paid for) after it was no longer socially acceptable for him to wear his Watford uniform everywhere. (“Go with the black and white ones,” he’d told Simon. “They’re a staple. They go with everything.”)

“We’re still outside,” Simon blurted out. “Should I, like, come in?”

Baz smirked despite the whirring in his head. “Yes, Snow. Do come in.”

Simon entered the apartment. He contrasted deliciously with the thick, velvet curtains and the deep oak floors, Baz thought. Nothing about him, from his tattered t-shirt to his worn jeans, matched his surroundings. There was nothing elegant about Simon Snow. He’d stumbled four times before they’d even left the foyer. (Simon still couldn’t believe Baz had a foyer. In his apartment. His summer apartment.) 

Baz wanted to take a photo of him so that he could capture this moment forever, capture Simon’s golden hair tumbling around his ears right in the middle of Baz’s apartment. 

Instead he turned to Simon, sliding a hand across his back, and said, “Tea?”

Simon smiled at him. “Do you have any scones?” 

“Hungry bastard,” Baz said, his voice warm. There was a bar counter in his living room that had a kettle on it, so he didn’t have to go far to prepare their tea. Simon was glad he didn’t have to leave the room. He didn’t think he could spend another second with a wall in between himself and Baz. 

Baz, sure enough, had scones, which he piled onto a plate and then shoved into Simon’s lap. Simon beamed down at them with almost as much love in his eyes as he always had when he looked at Baz.

Simon downed an entire scone without minimal chewing, then began shoving bits of another in his mouth. Baz watched him. He almost wanted to giggle, he felt so relieved, and warm, and happy, and… Crowley, Baz was so in love.

“So,” Simon began, looking up at Baz. His mouth was still half full of scone, and there were crumbs scattered across the front of his shirt. Baz wanted to take a million pictures of him and pin them all over every wall. 

“Do you wanna talk about… about what happened? About why you were avoiding me?” Simon continued.

Baz’s stomach dropped, and suddenly he felt cold. 

He shivered, which Simon noticed. Simon inched closer to Baz on the carpet, then threw a (crumb covered) hand on his shoulder and rubbed some warmth into the spot.

“I -- Fuck.” Baz threw an arm over his eyes. “I have no idea where to start.” 

“Start at the beginning,” Simon suggested unhelpfully. Baz didn’t have enough energy to tell him that that really wasn’t a good suggestion. 

Baz took a deep breath. He tried to find the beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! More coming soon :)


	5. five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baz tells Simon what's wrong. Simon tries to make Baz believe that everything will be okay.

“You know that my father rather… disagrees with who I am,” Baz decided was a good place to begin.

“Gay?” Simon asked. “Or a vampire?” 

Sometimes Baz regretted falling in love with someone so thick.

“The first one. Though he opposes both.” Baz swallowed. “Anyway,” he started, before he could lose his confidence. 

Simon finished his scones. He pushed his empty plate to the side, then took advantage of the fact that his lap was now empty to invade Baz’s space completely. Baz was sitting with his back against a sofa, his long legs bent up in front of him. Simon pushed his legs through the space under Baz’s knees, then wrapped an arm around Baz so that he was forced to fall into Simon’s lap. His tail curled around Baz’s back protectively. Simon began threading his fingers through Baz’s hair with one hand, and supported both of their weight with another hand on the floor. 

Simon dragged his nails across the back of Baz’s neck, and Baz sighed, which they both pretended they didn’t hear, even though knowing he was making Baz feel good put a small smirk on Simon’s mouth.

“Anyway,” Baz tried again. “My father called me the other day. He told me that…” Baz swallowed with a dry mouth and dry throat. Simon pulled his hand out of Baz’s hair and pressed it to Baz’s cheeks one at a time. He kissed the bottom of Baz’s jaw, the soft part right under his ear. They exhaled together.

“He told me that he was worried about my… sudden alliance with the ‘enemy,’ to quote his words.” Simon kissed the side of Baz’s nose. Baz let his eyes close.

“That bastard,” Simon murmured, and it took Baz a minute to realize that he was talking about Baz’s father. 

“He’s giving me time to think about whether or not I want to, er, continue on the path I’ve started down.”

“What a git,” Simon said. Baz could feel his tail tense against his back.

Simon wrapped both of his arms around Baz’s shoulders, which threw them both off-balance. They rocked into the couch behind them. Simon kissed Baz on the lips, and Baz kissed back, though it was obvious his mind was elsewhere.

Baz turned his face to the side so that when Simon drew him in for another round he got a mouthful of cheek, which Simon understood was an indication that Baz wanted to keep talking.

Baz’s emotions were like a rusty faucet, Simon had realized after they’d been dating for a while. They were hard to turn on, but once they got flowing, it took a lot of effort to shut them off again. Simon rather liked this about Baz, liked the fact that once he really started ranting he would always go all-in, gesticulating wildly, and using vocabulary that Simon could only half understand. Simon rather liked everything about Baz, he thought, as he grabbed one of Baz’s hands off his lap and rubbed it between his fingers.

“He’s forcing me to choose between you and my family. That’s the gist of it. I can either talk to you or I can talk to him. And no matter who I choose… Crowley, Simon, it was driving me mad not being with you. But I can’t just… I mean, I can’t just call him back up and say, ‘fuck you, I’m choosing the enemy,’ can I?”

Simon thought that Baz most definitely could do that, but he didn’t want to interject.

“Not that I think of you as the enemy,” Baz mumbled. He was beginning to trail off. “Quite the opposite, actually,” he whispered, then pressed his face into his arm. 

Simon had never seen Baz so frazzled, so close to tears. It made his heart hurt; it made everything in him hurt. He wished he could go to Baz’s father’s house and … and tell him to back the fuck off. 

Simon took a deep breath. Baz’s hand was still in Simon’s hands. Simon pushed his hands up Baz’s arms and landed on Baz’s shoulders.

“You know I’m shit with words,” Simon whispered. “And I’m sure I’m shit with father advice, too.” They both grimaced at the reference to Simon's father. Simon had said it half as a joke, but the atmosphere wasn’t really right for laughing. “But -- fuck, I don’t know. Whatever you choose, I’ll understand.” 

Baz didn't move. 

"I mean, look. It sounds to me like your father is just being a dramatic arsehole, and trying to get under your skin. But if you really think -- if you truly believe that he'd stop talking to you because of us, then we can pause. We can stop." Baz still wasn't moving. "Penny takes good care of me," Simon said, and it made Baz grimace, even though it was meant to be comforting. "Seriously, Baz. Whichever way, I understand."

The truth was that Simon didn’t really understand. He’d never been forced to make a choice like that; how could he understand? But watching Baz hurt made Simon feel sick. Baz deserved so much love. He deserved every good thing that Simon could possibly think of. Simon thought that maybe if Baz felt some of this love, if Baz could understand that he was good, that whatever choice he made was okay, Baz would start feeling better. And Simon wanted more than anything for Baz to feel better. 

Baz started trembling slightly, which Simon felt against his entire chest. Simon’s heart cracked, then shattered. “Shh,” he soothed, wrapping his arms around Baz and holding as tightly as he could. “It’ll all be okay, Baz. I promise.” 

“I don’t want to go another two weeks without seeing you,” Baz said. He wasn’t crying, but his voice was thick with emotion, and when he cleared his throat it was wet.

“Then don’t.” Simon pressed his face against the top of Baz’s head.

Baz didn’t respond, but he lifted his head from his arm and pushed it under Simon’s chin. His mouth was right against Simon’s neck, which he took as an opportunity to kiss Simon once, twice. Simon, in turn, kissed the top of Baz’s head. His wings, which had been tucked away behind his back, wrapped around Baz too, echoing their embrace. 

“Simon…” Baz whispered. His voice was still thick. 

“Baz.” Simon whispered back. He smoothed his hands over Baz’s hair, then wrapped them around Baz again. He squeezed. Simon didn't know how to tell Baz that he was there for him, that he'd be there for him forever, as long as Baz would take him, so he just hugged Baz hard and hoped that that could say everything that he couldn't. 

Baz didn’t know what he was going to tell his father. He didn’t even know whether or not he was going to call his father back. 

But he was wrapped in Simon’s arms, so loved, so loved that it hurt, and he was able to believe that maybe everything could be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧


End file.
